I Can't Say No to You
by Baron Hotschaft Von Hugenstein
Summary: A story of Quil and Claire through the years, set to "Good Enough" by Evanescence. Quil watches as Claire gets older, and closer to his age. Quil's pov. R&R!
1. Three

_Under your spell again  
I can't say no to you_

Today is her third birthday. I get to supervise the party crawling with three-and-four year old girls. With any other little girl, I would probably be pretty pissed off, and definitely unwilling, but not with Claire.

"Qwil's heaw! Qwil's heaw!" yells Claire as she toddles over to hug my legs.

"Hiya, Claire-bear!" I exclaim, lifting her high into the air and spinning her around. When I set her down, I plant a kiss on her forehead. "How's my favorite birthday girl?"

"Good!" Claire smiles adorably, then grabs my hand. I let her tow me to the living room of Emily's cute little house.

Emily looks relieved. "Thank God you're here, Quil. Claire was kicking up a major tantrum. There would have been tears and wailing if you hadn't shown." I laugh. Typical Claire. "Well, I'm off," Emily continues, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'll be back in a couple hours. The girls should be all picked up by then." She looks at me apologetically. "Sorry for leaving you here with these little monsters, Quil."

"No worries," I assure her. "I'm almost positive I can handle it." Emily chuckles under her breath, and leaves with one last grin.

The doorbell rings literally right after Emily steps out. "My friends aw heaw!" Claire cries, running for the door. I follow after her and hold her back as I pull it open. "Hi, Bwittany!" Claire says to the little red-haired girl on the porch.

"Hi, Claire," Brittany says with perfect clarity. I gape at the child's articulation before realizing that there's an adult at the door. I stand up straighter to face Brittany's mom. The mother ignores me.

"Brittany, baby, Mommy will be back soon." Ugh, the dreaded third person syndrome. I turn around and watch Claire and Brittany play.

Seven more giggling toddlers arrive, and I can't keep their names straight, let alone keep track of them. Suddenly, Claire claps her pudgy hands together. "It's pwesent time!" she decides, and the other girls cheer. Claire runs to me. "Help me with pwesents, Qwil?"

"Of course," I agree automatically. "What do you need me to do?

"You give me pwesents, I open them," she instructs.

"Yes, ma'am," I laugh. I go over to the pile of presents and pull of the top. I read the card out loud to Claire and the girls: "To Claire, from Nikki." I hand a bouncing Claire the present, and she eagerly tears through the paper. She gasps as she pulls it out.

"A cwown!" she gasps. It's a shiny silver plastic tiara with a pink rhinestone heart in it. Claire is elated. "Oh, wow!" She turns to me suddenly. "Put cwown on Qwil!" she decides.

"Me?" I ask cautiously. Claire thrusts the crown at me in response. Sighing, I place the plastic crown on my head. Claire applauds enthusiastically, and the others follow her lead.

As Claire rips, shreds, and tears her way through eight gifts, I end up looking more girl than guy. Claire insists I put on her pink tutu skirt, and she and her over-sugared friends apply makeup to my face in all the wrong places.

"Cake time!" someone screams just as a tiny girl with insanely cold hands puts lip gloss on my nose. The all rush to the kitchen, completely sidetracked by the thought of more sugar. I stand up and follow them.

"Qwil, Qwil, cake, cake!" Claire chants.

"I'm working on it, Claire-bear," I reassure her. Claire's round chocolate cake is sitting delicately on a glass cake plate. I try to take the cake and leave the plate, but it sticks. I try to gently pull it off, but it suddenly falls off and rolls onto the hardwood floors. Nine little girls scream as it shatters. "Shit," I grumble unthinkingly. Then I remember I'm surrounded by toddlers, who will probably pick that up and never let their children play with Claire again.

"What does 'shit' mean?" the little girl with the perfect articulation asks innocently.

"I said 'shoot'," I explain hastily. "What you said is a bad word. No one should ever say that. And don't go repeating that, okay?" The child nods solemnly, buying it. "I need everyone out of the kitchen! Go play with Claire's makeup, and I'll call you in when it's ready, okay?" Claire leads the horde of children into the living room.

I use my elbows to open Emily's cabinets and dig for a new plate for the cake. I find one, and the cake is saved. I lick the chocolate icing off my fingers as I rummage around for a broom. I pick up the big pieces with my fingers and throw them away, and use the broom to sweep the small shards into a dustpan. When the kitchen seems clean, I cut the cake into ten pieces. One piece is significantly larger than the others, and I eye it hungrily.

"Come on in," I invite the girls, and the come in as a stampede. "Since Claire's the birthday girl, she gets the first and biggest piece." _Second-biggest, _I amend in my head as I hand Claire the cake on a paper plate and stick a plastic fork in it. One by one, surprisingly orderly for hyper three-year-olds, they take their pieces and sit down around the table.

"Wait!" one of the girls complains. "We nevaw put candles in it and sing 'Happy Birthday' to Cwaire!" Dammit. One of the reasons I shouldn't be here.

"Well, then, let's put candles in Claire's piece and we can sing 'Happy Birthday then," I suggest. The other girls, and Claire, seem to like this. I find three candles and a lighter and jab them into Claire's cake. Then we all join in an off-key chorus of "Happy Birthday."

I watch, proud of myself for saving the day on multiple occasions, as the girls eat contentedly—and messily. As they chow into their cake, Emily bursts in the back door. "Auntie Em, Auntie Em!" Claire cheers.

"Hey, Claire. Hi, Quil," Emily greets us. "The house seems to still be in one piece."

"Ha-ha," I say sarcastically. "You're back early."

"Yeah. Got done early. I figured you might want to be relieved of your nanny duties."

I look at the girls, their cake, and of course, Claire. Frustrating as it is, I sort of like it. "Nah," I decide. "I'll stay here."

* * *

**i love this song ("Good Enough" by Evanescence, if you don't read summaries) and i thought it applied well to Quil and Claire. plus, i'd never written anything about them. so here it is! i'm doing one chapter for each year of Claire's life, up to age sixteen. if you want the full lyrics for "Good Enough," either Google it or PM me. (i like being PMed, hint hint.) so, go vote in my sexiest Twilight man poll, enter my Silence fanfic contest, look at the stories in my community, read my other stories, read "Want" by my lovely sister willowgrace511, and bask in my general awesomeness! lovelovelove, m**


	2. Four

_Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand  
I can't say no to you_

My Claire is growing up.

She's two weeks past her fourth birthday, and so much about her is changing. Her speech impediment is gone, and no longer does she call me "Qwil." Her cheeks aren't quite as full and round as they were last year, and she's shot up four inches. And this year, she goes to preschool. Preschool! She's already in school. Sure, they only color and have snack time, but it's school nonetheless.

And I know I sound like a nostalgic parent, but it's all just happening so quickly.

* * *

**see next chapter for an extensive AN...**


	3. Five

_Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly_

I ring the doorbell of Claire's house. Claire's mother enlisted me to take Claire to her kindergarten class, which starts today, a month after Claire turned five. I was more than willing, of course. Mrs. Young pulls open the door and sighs in relief. "Oh, I have never been so happy to see you here, Quil," she breathes. "Thanks so much for doing this. I'm already ten minutes late, and I wouldn't have been able to take Claire to school, so..."

"Go ahead, Mrs. Young," I encourage. "I've got Claire." And speak of the devil, I hear Claire come running in, her plastic flip-flops slap-slapping against the hardwood floor.

"Quil!" Claire squeals. She launches herself into my arms, and she's not too big yet for me to swing her around in a big circle. I place her on the ground and she zooms down the hall, calling, "Look at my backpack, Quil! Look!"

"Thanks again, Quil," Mrs. Young says earnestly. "I don't think there's anyone I would trust Claire more with." And with that, she picks up her black leather briefcase and climbs into her silver sedan. My beat up old Buick looks like scrap metal compared to it, but it runs just fine.

I chase down the way Claire headed, and I find her excitedly standing in the kitchen. "Quil, look at my brand-new backpack!" She's clutching a Hannah Montana bag and thrusts it at me. I take it and pretend to inspect it thoroughly, muttering, "Hmmmm," as I looked. Claire bounces in place, grinning.

"Wow, Hannah Montana!" I gush, grimacing internally. Miley Cyrus's nasal, immensely irritating voice pops into my head: "_Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days_," and I don't see the appeal with little girls. But, hey, Claire likes it, and I won't shoot her down. "Do you like her?"

"Yeah!" Claire cheers. "And look at my lunch box!" I put down the Hannah Montana bag just to have another thrust into my hands. Claire's lunch box is bright pink with a picture of Hannah looking like she'd been electrocuted, and the words Part Time Pop Star.

"Whoa, two Hannah Montana bags?" I demand in mock jealousy. "You're so lucky!" Claire giggles, pleased. "What time does your school begin, Claire-bear?"

"I don't know," Claire says, unfazed. I shrug and give her her bags.

"C'mon, I'll take you now," I tell her.

I strap her in the backseat, with the car seat Mrs. Young had given me. Her Hannah Montana bags sit close beside her. I drive carefully, following the instructions from Mrs. Young. When we pull up at the little brick building, there are no cars in the lot.

"Shoot," I mutter. I'd long ago learned to watch my language around Claire and her little friends. I turn back to Claire. "It looks like we're a little early. Do you want to go home, or sit in the car and wait?"

"Let's wait," Claire decides.

So we sit and wait. It's not long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, before people start to show. The first to arrive is a red pickup that reminds me of Bella Cullen's old truck. A girl gets out of the driver's seat, but I don't get a good look at her until she turns around, clutching a little boy's hand.

She's really pretty. She has long, long jet-black hair that falls in a straight, shiny curtain to her waist, contrastingly pale ivory-colored skin, and insanely blue eyes. I quickly look away, pretending to tend to one of Claire's needs. Claire giggles quietly. "What is it?" I ask her curiously.

"That's Henry de Lune," Claire confides. "He has a crush on me."

I laugh a little too, and try not to let the protective edge completely seize me. I look back to the girl and the little boy. "Do you want to go say hi to him?" I suggest.

"Okay," Claire agrees, and I unstrap her from the seat. She grabs her Hannah Montana bags, and together we walk toward the school. Henry sees us coming and stops, waiting to meet Claire. The girl stops, too, turning to see what Henry is waiting for. She catches my eye, and I smile a little. Henry tugs on her hand, and she releases him. He runs up to Claire with a smile on his little face.

"Hi, Claire," he says with a winning smile.

"Hi, Henry," Claire responds, smiling back, though not as widely.

As Henry and Claire converse about whatever five-year-olds talk about, the girl approaches me. She smiles at me apologetically. "Sorry about Henry. He has the biggest crush on Claire, and he comes on just a little too strong sometimes," she laughs. "I'm Jacqueline, by the way. Jacqueline de Lune." She holds out her hand for me to shake.

"Quil Ateara," I introduce with another grin. Unthinkingly, I shake her hand. She pulls it away quickly.

"Jeez, your hand is hot!" Jacqueline comments.

"Um, it's the, uh, temperature of the car," I stammer, that being my only excuse. Jacqueline eyes me strangely, but shrugs it off, not caring enough to ask.

"So, how are you related to Claire?" Jacqueline asks conversationally.

"She's my niece," I tell her. That's what Emily, Sam, and I came up with.

"Oh. Henry's my little brother," explains Jacqueline. I can see the resemblance; they both have the same colored eyes.

"He's a cute kid," I compliment as we watch his attempts at premature flirting. Claire doesn't seem to be affected by his attempts, poor kid.

Jacqueline laughs. "He's a little charmer, all right," she says sarcastically.

I look at her, really look. I see this really pretty girl with a sense of humor, who obviously cares for her little brother. And then I look to Claire. My other half, my imprint. Even though she's only five years old, I knew from the second I saw her that she completed me. I look back to Jacqueline, and her blue eyes are looking curiously at me. "You okay?" she asks tentatively.

It takes me a while to answer, because I honestly don't know what will come out of my mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine," I tell her. She holds her gaze for a minute, then looks away. Now what do I do? Do I ask her out? I have no idea what to do. I'm torn between my Claire, and this girl Jacqueline, who I'm sure could keep up with me.

"Henry!" Jacqueline calls. "Come on! We have to get you to school!" Henry trots obediently to her, and she looks at me, smiling slightly. "Nice talking to you, Quil. I'll see you around, I guess."

Now's my chance. If I want to say something, now's my chance. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is, "See you around." I can't make myself do it. I can't turn my back on Claire and just ask Jacqueline out. I don't seem to be physically capable here. So I let her go, and fetch Claire.

It's something I never grow to regret, letting go of Jacqueline.

* * *

**did y'all notice that if Claire and Henry ever got married, her name would be Claire de Lune? i thought that was hilarious, so i had to make their last name de Lune. sorry the last one was short, but i liked it. thanks to chocoholic4eva (the girl who never fails to have something to say!) and CallMeEmbrys for reviewing. i heart you! no ghostreaders please. if you're gonna favorite/alert me, review me. i'd rather have reviews than favorites, ya know. thanks for reading! now go review! lovelovelove, m**


	4. Six

_Now I can't let go of this dream  
I can't breathe but I feel good enough_

"Guess what?" Claire asks, bouncing in her seat with excitement.

"What's that, Claire-bear?" I say, tapping the break when the light changes to red.

"I got a part in the first-grade play!" she brags enthusiastically.

"You did?" I press, smiling with happiness at Claire's obvious excitement over this small achievement. "What play is it? And what part are you?"

"The play is called _Once Upon a Lily Pad_," Claire explains. "It's about a little frog who is tired of doing frog things so he goes to explore the jungle. I got the part of chick number two."

"Everyone knows chick number two is the coolest of all the chicks," I agree solemnly. "Congratulations. The play sounds very, um, interesting." Claire grins widely, basking in the praise. Ah, first grade. What I would give to go back there. "So, do you have any lines?"

"Yeah!" enthuses Claire. "I get to talk after chick number one. Let me find my line." She tears through her reused Hannah Montana bag from last year and produces a thin slip of paper. It's a wonder she hasn't lost it yet. Don't first-grade teachers know better than to give six-year-olds small objects and expect them to not lose them? "'We just stay at our pond,'" Claire recites. "That's my line."

"Wow, that's a great line." I turn onto Claire's driveway. "All right, Claire-bear, go 'head and hop out. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay? I'll be there in the morning to take you to school."

"Bye, Quil," Claire says. She leans forward to peck my cheek before gathering up her bags and skipping to the door. Her mom lets her in, waves to me, and then shuts the door behind Claire. I pull out backwards and drive back to my own place in silence. I ignore the minute stabs to my heart as I drive further away from the center of my universe. After four years, I've gotten used to them.

To think it's been four years. Four years ago, everything was total hell. From the Sam-Leah-Emily drama, to the Jacob-Bella-Edward thing, then I had to go imprint on a two-year-old, then that army of bloodsuckers hell-bent on destroying Bella, and finally Jacob's imprinting. Now, it's complete peace. Sam and Emily are happily married, Leah's happy and in love, Bella and Edward and the other bloodsuckers are in a truce with the rest of us, Jake and Nessie are happy, and Claire and I are good. Everything is how it should be.

What a difference four years can make.

* * *

**thanks to chocoholic4eva for catching my mistake on the last chapter. i don't own _Once Upon a Lily Pad_. in fact, when i was six, i was chick number two in it. that was my line. so i just bequeathed the part unto Claire. thanks for reviewing. please please please no ghostreaders! i can't stress this enough. i'd much rather have reviews than favorites or alerts, okay? so review PLEASE. try to make it to 20? thanks all! lovelovelove, m**


	5. Seven

_I feel good enough for you_

It's that time of the year again. The only time of the year where children are not only encouraged to talk to strangers, but to take candy from them, too. Every kid's dream.

Halloween.

Claire's beyond psyched. She and her friend Zoe are planning to trick-or-treat together, and I was volunteered to be the guardian/babysitter. Claire decided to go as Gabriella from _High School Musical 5_, and Zoe immediately decided to be Sharpay so they could match. They both tried to convince me to go as Troy, but I decided to stick to the old tried-and-true Scream mask.

Now it's the big night. I pull into the Youngs' driveway and, mask in hand, let myself in. Mrs. Young is busy curling Claire's long black hair, and Mr. Young is in the little kitchen dumping Reese's Cups and Hershey bars into an orange plastic bowl. "Hey, Quil," he greets me.

"Hi, Mr. Young," I reply respectfully. "Hi, Mrs. Young. Hey, Claire-bear."

"Hi, Quil!" Claire says. "Do you like my hair? Mom is making it beautiful." Mrs. Young laughs.

"You look great," I assure her. "Your mom's doing a good job on it. What time is Zoe coming?" I should probably get introduced to Little Terror number two before I head out on my Halloween-trick-or-treat-guardian duties.

"She should be here any minute," Mrs. Young answers. She unclamps the curling iron, and Claire's dark hair bounces in a ringlet down her back. And speak of the devil, the doorbell rings. Mr. Young puts down the candy and goes to answer it.

"Hi there, Linda. Hey, Zoe. Claire's right inside," Mr. Young tells the blonde family on the porch. The little girl, who is wearing a sparkly blue dress, dashes eagerly in to meet Claire and Mrs. Young.

"You're done, Clairey," Mrs. Young says. She unplugs the hot iron from the wall, wraps it up, and leaves Claire and Zoe to their seven-year-old fun.

"You look pretty," Zoe compliments Claire. Claire grins widely and executes a little twirl for her friend.

"So do you," she responds. "I like your dress." Zoe turns around like Claire did to show the back of her dress. Claire nods in approval. "Zoe, this is Quil. He's my friend. He's gonna take us trick-or-treating." Claire grabs my hand and squeezes it. I smile brightly down at Claire, then turn to Zoe.

"Hey, Zoe," I say casually. Zoe waves shyly, then stuffs her hands behind her back. I look at Claire. "Are you two ready to go?"

"Yeah!" cheers Claire excitedly.

"Do you have something to put your candy in?" I double-check.

"Yep, me 'n' Zoe both have pillowcases," Claire assures me.

"'Kay, then I think you're all set," I decide. I look toward Mr. and Mrs. Young, who are finishing the candy preparation. "What time do they need to be home?"

"Oh, eight would be fine," Mrs. Young tells me.

"I'll have them back then," I promise. "Ready, girls?" Claire and Zoe nod vigorously and lead me out the door. They skip down the sidewalk, keeping the lead, and I follow them, sometimes having to speed-walk to keep up with their pace of childish excitement. They run up the driveway to a little brick house. I wait at the base as the two friends ring the bell, get their candy, and run back down.

This pattern progresses as the sky grows darker and the girls' sacks grow heavier. Two hours later, I am holding onto two very tired girls' arms and leading them back to the Youngs' house. Both of their candy bags are easily slung over my shoulders. When I get back in the house and put the candy on the ground, both Claire and Zoe perk up. "Candy exchanging time!" Claire declares.

She and Zoe dump out their candy bags in front of them. "Ew, Laffy Taffy," Zoe complains, tossing a yellow-wrapped candy into an empty space in the center of the girls and their candy.

"Want my Twizzlers? I'll give them to you for your gummy hamburger," Claire offers.

"Deal," Zoe decides. She picks out a small wrapped brown thing and hands it to Claire. Claire fishes out a long red licorice stick and tosses it to Zoe.

I watch in amusement as the girls pore over their goodies and throw or trade away anything they don't want. I usually take the things that neither girl likes, like Laffy Taffies, Hot Tamales, and Charleston Chews. Zoe's parents come to get her around eight-thirty, and she takes an assortment of gummies, sours, and chocolate with her. The second the little girl is out the door, Claire slumps over and falls asleep in her candy. I laugh lightly as I scoop her into my arms, cradling her body close to mine, and carry her to bed.

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**i miss Halloween being a huge deal. don't you? i'm speaking out against ghostreaders again, though it's been much less of a problem. who ya gonna call? GHOSTREADER BUSTERS! haha that was a lame joke purely for my benefit. go read my stories/profile/TRY to vote in my poll (i say try because there's been somewhat of an issue voting in polls, i think it's a fanfiction thing). and of course, review!! lovelovelove, m**


	6. Eight

_Drink up sweet decadence  
I can't say no to you_

Sam has declared Claire old enough to learn the truth. "You two have been inseparable for the last six years. And she's eight, probably old enough to recognize that you're still sixteen when you should be at least twenty-two," he rationalizes.

I'm not so sure. I bite my lip anxiously. "Can't we wait till she's a little bit older? I don't know how she'll take it, and I don't want to scare her..."

"It's now or never, Quil," Sam says firmly. So I choose now.

I'm driving her to school the next day, a blustery November day a couple months into Claire's third-grade year, and I take the long way to buy myself some time. "Claire," I begin.

"Yeah?" she asks.

"I have something very important to tell you," I continue. "What you're about to hear is completely secret—you are not allowed to tell anyone anything, okay?"

"Sure," Claire agrees. "What is it?"

"Remember that bonfire we had in August that we went to?" I hedge.

"Yeah. The one where Jacob proposed to Renesmee?" Claire smiles dreamily at the memory. I remember, too. It was a truly great moment.

"That one," I confirm. "Do you remember the stories that Jake's dad told?"

Claire frowns, thinking. "The ones about Taha Aki and them? About the spirit warriors and the cold ones and the wolves and stuff?"

"Yeah, those. Do you remember what Billy said about the wolves?"

"That Taha Aki's grandsons turned into werewolves?" Claire phrases the statement as a question.

"Yes, that's right." I stop, thinking of a way to tell her. "Well, what if—" I cut myself off, searching for words. "What if the stories were true?"

Claire doesn't speak for a few seconds that drag on like hours. "If they were true, you'd be a werewolf, wouldn't you?" Her voice is almost accusing.

"Yeah, I would. And...I am."

The car is dead silent except for the rattling engine before Claire bursts out laughing. "Werewolf? I'm not stupid. Those stories weren't real."

I'm a little stung by Claire's response, but I try not to let it bother me. "They are, Claire-bear. That's why I heal so fast. That's why my skin is so hot. That's why I'm not getting older. That's why I have to run away whenever I get mad—because if I get too mad, I turn into a wolf."

"I don't believe you," Claire informs me matter-of-factly, but I hear the poorly concealed doubt in her voice.

"Do you want proof?" I ask softly.

Claire is silent for a moment. "No," she finally says. Her next words contradict what she'd said before: "I believe you."

"There's more," I tell her hesitantly.

"More?" Claire asks incredulously.

"There's a...werewolf" —I'm hesitant to use the word— "thing called imprinting. Imprinting happens when the werewolf sees a girl for the first time, and it's like nothing matters but her." I try to sum up the whole imprinting ordeal in an easy statement. "And way back when you were two, I imprinted on you."

"You...what?" Claire whispers.

"Your Aunt Emily brought you and your cousin Miranda down from the Makah rez six years ago, and I told her I'd help babysit. I saw you there, and that was it."

"Okay..." Claire says hesitantly. "So, what does this mean?"

"It's just an explanation for why I'm always hanging around you." I purposely leave out the whole getting-older-and-falling-in-love-with-each-other bit, because it's at least seven years premature. I also know this wolf business is freaking her out more than she lets on, and one last thing is likely to throw her over the edge.

"Who all is a werewolf?" Claire asks.

"Most of my friends are. Sam, Jacob, Embry, Seth, Leah—"

"Leah? As in, Leah Clearwater? But I thought that they were all boys."

"Leah's kind of a mystery. We're not sure why she phased. Back to the list. Sam, Embry, Jake, the Clearwaters, Jared, Paul, Collin, Brady, Max, Jack, Ben, Harrison, Kyle, Zach, and Alex."

"Wow, that's a lot," comments Claire.

"I know. Sam and Jake have their hands full trying to keep track of them all." I laugh a little.

"Has anyone else...imprinted?"

"Yeah, a lot. Sam imprinted on Emily, Jacob imprinted on Renesmee, Jared on Kim, Paul on Jacob's sister Rachel, Embry on Haley. That's why they're always together."

Claire contemplates this. "So, they're all kind of in love with each other?" she asked. Once I think about it,I realize it's true. Sam and Emily have been married for five years, and Jared and Kim for a few months. Paul and Rachel are engaged, and Jacob and Renesmee, too. Embry and Haley are still just dating, but they're completely in love.

"Yeah, kind of," I tell her.

"But not us," she continues.

"Not us," I agree. We're pulling up at Claire's school now. "Out you go, Claire-bear." I try to get her out hastily before the conversations continues in the awkward tone it's heading into. She gathers up her backpack. "Remember, not a word to anyone except the people who know. Basically, everyone I just talked about and most of their parents. Okay?"

"Okay," Claire agrees. "Bye, Quil." She kisses my forehead and hops out. I make sure she's inside before driving away.

As Embry once said, the wolf was out of the bag now.

* * *

**hey all, thanks for the reviews. if my ghostreaders (i ain't gonna name names but y'all know who you are) would review i could be up to at least 25!! i don't want to be favorited/ alerted as much as i want reviews. so if you're gonna pick between the two, REVIEW!!! review this baby, too. i could use some cheering up after thoroughly humiliating myself in gym class today. so make me happy! review! lovelovelove, m**


	7. Nine

_And I've completely lost myself and I don't mind  
I can't say no to you_

The snow that blows outside the big windows makes this Christmas Eve seem even more Christmas-y. I'm clutching Claire's hand as we weave in and out of the people shopping around in the nearest department store to La Push, all the way up in Port Angeles, an hour away. Claire and I both need to finish our Christmas shopping. Claire's excited because this is the first year she's buying presents with her own money. I told Mrs. Young I'd take her, and we were out.

Once Claire and I have bought our items, we head into the whirling snowstorm. Flakes of white collect in Claire's long black hair, and the contrast is sort of beautiful. I'm not thinking like that yet, but the snow in her hair is the door opening to Claire's teenage years.

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**i'm not gonna ruin this drabble with a long AN. review, don't ghostread! lovelovelove, m**


	8. Ten

_Shouldn't let you conquer me completely  
Now I can't let go of this dream_

Emily and Sam are having a huge New Years' party this year, and all the wolves and imprints were invited. Of course Claire and I are going, as well as most of the other wolves and their imprints. I pick Claire up at nine-thirty from her house. "And there's not going to be drinking?" Mrs. Young asks anxiously.

"Mom." Claire rolls her eyes. She's ten now, and uses her "double digits" to act like a sullen teenager. I hope this is just a phase. "It's _Aunt Emily. _Would she really allow drinking?" Mrs. Young agrees, but the worried lines are still on her face. She turns to me sharply.

"Have her home by twelve-forty-five on the dot," she instructs severely.

"Yes, ma'am," I agree seriously. "Not a second late." Mrs. Young nods in approval, and we peel out of the driveway.

I pull up at Sam and Emily's, and everything seems to be getting into gear. Jacob and Renesmee are there at the door, sipping punch. Seth is lounging on the couch and offers us a wave as we enter. Paul and Rachel aren't there; they're still on their honeymoon. That's one less guy we have to worry about phasing, I guess. Lucky for us it was Paul. Jared and Kim are chatting with Emily and Sam, and all four of them greet us with "Hey, Quil!"s and "Wow, Claire, you're growing up so fast!"s. The younger kids are engaged in an intense game of foosball. Leah is sort of hovering alone. She wasn't allowed to bring Oliver, her boyfriend, because he doesn't know the secret, and one of the more volatile wolves might get mad. Since Oliver's not an imprint, Leah couldn't tell him. I see Haley, Embry's girlfriend and imprint, watching the foosball game with an expression of amusement on her face, but Embry is nowhere to be found. I wonder vaguely where he is.

"Ooh, PopTarts!" Claire exclaims. She approaches a table containing a crystal cake plate stacked artfully with America's favorite toastable pastries. I snicker to myself at the display. Leave it to Emily to make even PopTarts look fancy.

Claire ambles over stand by Haley and watch the foosball game. She and Haley have a sort of older-sister-younger-sister relationship. Claire thinks of Haley like the older sister she always wanted but never got. After a long look at the two girls chatting, I leap over the back of the couch and settle in next to Seth.

Sometimes I pity Seth. He's watched everyone around him imprint or fall in love, even Leah, and he has no one. So I make an extra effort to treat him with kindness. "'Sup, Clearwater?" I ask casually. "Just sittin'?"

"Yeah. The New Years' thing with Ryan Seacrest isn't on for, like, two more hours, and it's not the same since Dick Clark died anyway," he explains, gesturing toward the TV that's currently off.

"Yeah, Seacrest can get kinda annoying," I agree. "It's hard to take him in concentrated doses."

Seth glances at Claire. "Damn, man, she's growing up fast," he comments. "Seems like just yesterday that you imprinted on her. Hard to believe it was nearly eight years ago."

"I know." The nostalgia sets in uninvited. "It's been eight years...and I have to wait at least six more." I watch as Haley leans down to whisper something in Claire's ear. She beams at whatever the older girl said.

The party continues in this fashion. At 11:30, "Ryan Seacrest's Rockin' New Years' Eve" is turned on. (They even renamed the show after Dick Clark's death!) Seth and I watch, and slowly the rest of the pack and their imprints gather around the TV. I wedge Claire in between the armrest and my hip, and we watch in anticipation as the clock winds down to midnight. Embry is still nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, with only one minute before the new year, the door bangs loudly. Everything halts. Emily rushes to the door, has a hushed conversation with the person there, then dims the lights. I look at Seth in confusion. He shrugs, and we both turn to watch the scene.

Embry saunters in, dressed in a tuxedo. I'm thinking, _Dude, it's a New Years' party, not some sort of gala_. Then I spot the tiny velvet box that he's trying to conceal in his big hand. A slow smile spreads across my face as I watch. Embry moves toward Haley, who's sitting by Claire on the arm of the couch. "Hi, sweetheart," he says, kissing her lightly. We all watch with our breaths held.

"Hey, Embry. What's all this?" Haley asks, gesturing toward the tux and bow tie. Embry smiles hugely. Then, he gets down on one knee. Haley's hand flies to her mouth. "Oh my God," I hear her whisper.

"Haley Elizabeth Bennett? I love you so much. More than the world." He takes her hand and brings it to his lips. "More than my own life." He reveals the box and opens it. Haley's eyes shine. "Will you marry me?" A tear streaks down Haley's cheek as she nods.

"Yes. Of course," she says, her voice cracking. Embry pulls out the ring, a small silver band with one tiny diamond embedded in it, and slides it onto her ring finger.

"A perfect fit," Embry declares. Someone starts clapping, and we all join in. Then Embry points to the TV, and starts to yell: "10, 9, 8, 7, 6..."

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Everyone joins in, and Embry and Haley, the newly engaged, share the first kiss of the new year. Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim, and Jacob and Renesmee follow suit. Claire's not old enough yet, so I plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"Happy New Year, Claire-bear," I say softly. Emily begins to pass out plastic champagne glasses full of sparkling cider. I toast in the new year surrounded by everyone I love. I smile as Claire and I clink glasses. We're one step closer...

* * *

**sorry about the last chapter. that was me being lazy. i knew i had to update but didn't feel like writing.**

**some of u might say this is more of an Embry/Haley fic than a Quil/Claire. well let me explain here. Haley is one of my favorite OCs, and i am in the process of heavily editing her and Embry's story titled "Meteor." idk if y'all have read it. but while Embry and Haley aren't on fanfiction, i missed them! (sounds lame, i know, but i love them) so i threw them in the chapter.**

**thanks all for reviewing! keep up the good work. can we make it to fifty? forty-five? to be honest, idk how many reviews i've got here. (lol) so maybe ten or fifteen. i'm having much less of a problem with ghostreading. THANK YOU THANK YOU for that. so go read my other stories, stories by seashell118 (mention for mention sweetie!), and enter my Silence fanfiction contest. all right, this AN is much too long. i'll shut up now. lovelovelove, m  
**


	9. Eleven

_Can't believe that I feel good enough  
I feel good enough_

I can't walk down a street with shops on it anymore without being bombarded with red and pink, floral scents, and two God-awful words: Valentine's Day.

Seeing as I've never been in love before, I've never really liked Valentine's Day. In high school when I was girl-crazy Quil, it seemed just like an opportunity for those lucky enough to have girlfriends to flaunt them. It was also one of the most widely-accepted days for PDA, which made me totally sick. V-Day is still not my favorite, where it's like everyone _has_ to be in love. I also only have to remember that it will only be a few years before I have someone to celebrate on Valentine's Day.

Claire's in sixth grade, and this is her last year of elementary school. Consequently, it's her last year of classroom Valentine parties. You know the type: where eleven-year-old kids decorate shoeboxes with red lace and wrapping paper and hand out drugstore-purchased meaningless Valentine cards printed with little puppies or the Simpsons to their classmates. I helped Claire address her Hello Kitty cards, and cover an old Skechers box with aluminum foil and paper hearts.

Valentine's Day comes and goes for me without too much fuss. I go to the movies while Claire is at school, hoping to catch _Saw IX_, and see hokey, bad-romantic-comedy couples filing into the movies like _Forever and Always_. Ugh. Gag me.

After I've had my fill of festive Valentine's Day gore, I go to pick up Claire from school. She slides in the back, dropping her bag and Valentine box onto the seat next to her. "Hey, Claire-bear."

"Hi, Quil." Claire sounds excited, for some reason I can't fathom.

"How was your Valentine's party?" I ask, truly curious. I haven't had one of those since I was eleven. I'm sixteen now, as I have been for nearly nine years, so that was almost fourteen years ago.

"Good. I got a secret admirer Valentine," Claire adds. I raise my eyebrows.

"What? Let me see," I demand, suddenly edgy for no particular reason. Claire opens her box and digs through the assorted generic Valentines before surfacing with a heart cut out of red construction paper. She hands it over. I examine the front. "To Claire," it reads, "from ??" I open the card. There are pink heart stickers littering the inside. The inside says, "I see you every day in class, and I hope someday you will see me too. Love, your secret admirer."

"That's kind of cute," I grudgingly admit.

Claire giggles. "I know. I wonder who it could be," she says in a high-pitched voice.

"Me too," I mutter under my breath. I scramble for a new subject, desperate to change the one we're on. "So, what else did you do?"

Claire recounts the party to me, but I only half pay attention as I drive Claire home, my fingers clenched on the wheel. I remind myself of Claire's age—_eleven, Quil, eleven—_and force myself to focus on Claire's story.

* * *

**hey tanks for the reviews! oops, i forgot the h. now it looks like i'm going to give my reviewers tanks. no such luck, ppl, sorry. review my Valentine's day masterpiece por favor! check out my stories/fanfic contest/profile/community/poll! oh, and a special shout out to gethsemane342 for speaking Welsh. review! lovelovelove, m**


	10. Twelve

_It's been such a long time coming but I feel good_

Claire fits right into the werewolf community. She's incredibly close to all of them, but closest of all to me, of course. The only time that we are usually apart is when she's at school: junior high this year. She'll be there for two years only, before she moves onto high school. She's my best friend, and I'm hers, which is a lot less weird now that she's twelve, and not two.

She loves Haley, who is Embry's imprint, but now that Haley and Embry are married, Claire doesn't get to see Haley so much. I know how this makes her sad. We try to let them see each other as often as we can, but being the wife of a werewolf tends to be a full-time job, and so it's not too often. Claire cherishes every time she gets to visit.

She loves Embry, too. I think that out of all the wolves, Embry is the one who's the most willing to joke around and just be funny. I think Sam and Jake and the others can get really serious, but Embry is always laughing. Whenever Claire and Embry are put together, you can usually expect pranks and tons of nonstop laughter.

She loves Sam and Emily, of course. They're her aunt and uncle, after all, and they love Claire fiercely. They also provide Claire with the beginnings of babysitting gigs with their six-month-old daughter, Maleah. Maleah is beautiful, and I think it's really nice of Sam and Emily to name her after Leah.

She loves Jacob and Renesmee. It's been ten years from "Unca Jay" to Jacob, and up until she was about eight, she couldn't even pronounce Renesmee. But they are an honorary aunt and uncle to her, unlike Embry and Haley, who are more of a brother and sister.

She loves Seth. To Claire, Seth is sort of the one she can always count on to make her feel better. She'll tell me her problems, with school and friends and (!) boys, but more often then not, I don't know how to make her feel better. That's where Seth comes in. Whenever he visits, he leaves Claire with a smile on her face.

She loves Leah and Oliver. It's kind of tough for her, but I know Claire tries her hardest to love Leah. She knows that Leah's never really been her biggest fan, or the world's biggest fan of imprinting in general, but she does really like Leah's husband, Oliver, and she tries to use Oliver to bring her closer to Leah.

She loves every other wolf in the pack, and their imprints: Paul and Rachel, Jared and Kim, Collin, Brady, Max, Jack, Ben, Harrison, Kyle, Zach, and Alex. Though Claire doesn't spend quite as much time with them as she does with Haley and Embry, Sam and Emily, Jacob and Renesmee, Seth, and Leah and Oliver, she still loves them in her way. The younger wolves make Claire feel like less of a little kid, I think, and bring her closer to the whole pack.

At the beginning, Claire was incredulous of the whole wolf ordeal. It makes me happy to know that she has accepted me, and the rest of the pack, for who we are, and loves us all anyway.

* * *

**you get a toofer today, 'cause this one's a little shorty pants, and so is the next one! (extensive AN on the next chapter!) lovelovelove, m**


	11. Thirteen

_And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall  
Pour real life down on me_

It's spring break of Claire's eighth grade year. She's thirteen now, and is really, really pretty. I don't think she knows how pretty she really is. She has long raven-colored hair that falls straight almost to her waist, almond-shaped dark eyes, and perfectly clear copper skin. It's a wonder she doesn't have boys falling all over her, but then again, maybe it's just me who sees her beauty.

It's a regular day for Claire and I. Today we're out getting some ice cream at this tiny, shabby-looking, but insanely amazing ice cream place called Moo-Moos. Just as Claire begins to take the first lick off her chocolate-chip-cookie-dough cone, her cell phone jingles. Sighing in frustration, obviously wanting to eat her ice cream, she pulls it out of her pocket. She stares at the caller ID for a second, then flips it open. "Hello?" she says impatiently.

I wait as Claire listens to whoever is on the other end. Suddenly, her face drains of color, and the untouched ice cream cone falls out of her hand. I bite my lip in concern as the ice cream hits the floor. "Oh...my God...okay...thanks for the call," she says in a voice that's barely above a whisper. "No, really. Thank you. Bye."

The second the call is over, Claire bursts into tears. "What is it?" I ask, alarmed. Claire doesn't answer, just falls forward into my arms. I move my cone out of the way as she sobs into my chest. "Claire-bear, what's wrong?"

The shop owner and fellow patrons are now looking at us with interest and irritation. I carefully lead Claire outside, and the two of us sit on a bench right outside the door. I throw out my chocolate ice cream, suddenly not hungry. "Claire, tell me what's wrong," I demand, firm but gentle.

"It's m-my p-p-parents," Claire cries. "Th-they're d-d-dead!"

I blanch. A mental image of Mr. and Mrs. Young with Claire pops into my head, and my brain excises the parents. "Oh, Claire, what happened?" I breathe softly. Claire takes a deep breath, and her sobbing quiets, before she speaks.

"They were t-trying to get somewhere," Claire begins shakily. "Shopping or s-something. And they were in the car, and a d-drunk driver hit them. The c-car flipped over an overpass on the highway, and both of them were k-killed when the car hit the ground." Claire breaks down again, and I pull her close to me as she relentlessly sobs.

"What can I do for you?" I murmur. I fear that if I make my voice louder, it will make Claire even more sad, and shatter the moment.

"Stay," is all Claire says.

I don't need to be asked twice.

* * *

**depressing? yes. short? absolutely. but hey, it's plot. love it? hate it? review it! mega-props to all my reviewers, you know who you are! lovely lovely! you've read my other ANs, right? well go do what they tell you so i don't have to type it all out again. peace! lovelovelove, m**


	12. Fourteen

_'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough_

In the year that passed since Claire's parents' deaths, the Uley family has doubled. It was quickly decided that Claire would go live with Sam, Emily, and Maleah, making their daughter count two. And Emily had just had twins. The baby boys, Levi and Will, are a little over a month old.

Claire had almost completed her freshman year of high school, and she was completely swamped with homework. A lot of times she'd babysit Maleah, Levi, and Will, but a lot of times she wouldn't be able to because of a test tomorrow, or a paper due, and I come help her out.

Maleah and I are engaged in an intense game of peek-a-boo, when I hear one of the babies start to cry. "Hold on, Lee-lee," I instruct, holding up a finger in the toddler's face.

"No," Maleah says firmly.

"Yes," I counter, impatient, as the wails grow louder. I stand up, and as I turn around, Maleah's face crumples and she starts to scream.

Great.

I scoop Maleah up as I cross the house to get the baby. When I open the door, I see that not one, but both of the boys are wailing. I let out an exasperated breath.

Then Claire is pushing in front of me. She scoops the boys out of their crib, balancing one on each hip, and starts to sing to them in a low, breathy voice. I watch, transfixed, as the boys' cries die down, and their eyelids droop. At the end of Claire's lullaby, the babies are asleep. I hoist Maleah higher onto my hip as Claire sets the snoozing babies back into the crib.

"Back to bio," Claire says with a smile. She kisses Maleah on the cheek, but leaves me hanging. For some reason, this really, really pisses me off.

Maleah starts to squirm, and I let her down in a sort of daze. What is this insane rush of jealousy felt toward a two-year-old girl? Then it hits me, so strong it's like a pound of bricks catapulting into my chest.

I'm in love with Claire Young.

* * *

**i know, i know. it's been forever. and this is short. i'm sorry. i just had to get past fourteen 'cause i have a REALLY REALLY good fifteen. (lol) i want to say a big Happy Birthday to my husband Taylor Lautner, and my BFFAE Dee! i love you both! review this baby and just wait a li'l while before i come out with fifteen. it will knock your socks off. lovelovelove, m**


	13. Fifteen

_Am I good enough for you to love me too_

I let Claire into the driver's seat, biting the inside of my cheek. I'm being the licensed driver so Claire can start to drive. As long as there's a licensed driver in the car, she can drive wherever she wants in daylight hours.

"Hey, Quil," Claire says easily. Her voice holds a tangible note of excitement.

"What's got you so happy?" I ask as Claire pulls out of the parking space. I uncap my water bottle and take a swig.

"I'm going on a date tonight," Claire tells me enthusiastically. I almost choke on my water.

"What?" I demand. "With who?" Claire eyes me strangely.

"Henry de Lune," she says in satisfaction.

"That kid who had a crush on you in kindergarten? And the one who sent you that Valentine card in the sixth grade?" I verify, making sure my fists don't clench around something remotely breakable.

"God, Quil, don't get all papa-bear on me," scoffs Claire. "Leave that to Uncle Sam. He's going to flip."

"Then why are you going out with him, if Sam is going to freak out?" I ask.

"Um, duh, I like him." Claire starts down the street toward her house.

"Why?" I choke.

"I don't know. He's cute, he's funny..." I tune Claire out as she lists Henry's good qualities. I want to scream at her, _Look next to you! I'M cute, I'M funny, I'M the one who's in freakin' love with you! _But of course I don't.

I try to breathe evenly and calm myself. I have to remember that what I want is to have Claire be happy. If she wants this Henry, then I have to be happy for her. "Is he picking you up?" I ask evenly.

"No, we're meeting there," Claire responds. She sounds a little miffed, and I belatedly realize that I've interrupted her list of Henry's good qualities. "Will you take me?"

I'm not keen on the idea, but if she wants me to, I can't say no to her. "Sure," I agree.

"Oh, great," Claire smiles. "My best friend and my boyfriend!"

I stop short. "B-boyfriend?" I sputter.

Claire shrugs like it's no big deal. "Of course. He asked me to be his girlfriend."

What is this, seventh grade? Who uses the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" on the first date? They're sophomores, not middle-school kids. But I keep my opinions to myself, and instead force out a, "Great!"

Claire beams. "I know. Will you pick me up at 7? Henry and me are meeting at Showcase Cinemas at 7:30."

"Sure," I say with a fake smile.

-----

I gasp when I see Claire all decked out in her date attire. She's wearing a sparkly light blue tank top with one of those sweaters that are supposed to look shrunken, dark blue jeans, and polka-dot Chuck Taylors. Her black hair is down, and it falls to the middle of her back.

Claire executes a turn for me. I gape like an idiot before I recapture the ability to speak. "You look great!" I enthuse.

She grins. "Do you think Henry'll like it?" she asks me, a thread of anxiety twisting her bright tone. The mention of her date's name brings me back to earth.

"Of course," I say flatly. "Get in."

Claire hops in the passenger seat of the rusty Buick. If she's embarrassed to be seen in such a dumpy car, she doesn't show it. I concentrate on the road, trying to stop seeing green.

I pull up at Showcase. One other car is there, which I'm assuming to be Henry and his driver. Claire steps out of the car, her hair swinging. Henry is waiting for her. I can see the appeal: Henry's got that blonde-jock-boy aura about him. It seemed in high school, those were the ones who got the girls. And even sixteen years out of high school, it seems the same way.

Henry's driver steps out. There's something vaguely familiar about her. Then I recognize her as Jacqueline de Lune, ten years later. She's got to be twenty-five or twenty-six now. She looks different, but the same, somehow. Most of the resemblance between her and Henry has disappeared. She has dark hair and light skin, but his hair and skin is golden. Quickly, I assume a new identity, in case Jacqueline still recognizes me, then I step out of the car.

I see Jacqueline do a sort of double-take as she looks at me. "Quil Ateara?" she asks in disbelief.

"Hardly," I respond. "I'm Quil's brother. My name's Taylor." I smile amiably at her.

"Oh. I met Quil once, maybe ten years ago," says Jacqueline. "I'm Jacqueline de Lune, by the way. I'm Henry's older sister. You look exactly like Quil when he was sixteen,"

"Yeah, people say that," I tell her wryly. Then I turn to Claire. "Claire, can I talk to you for a sec?" She nods at me, grins at Henry, then bounces over.

"What?" she asks.

"You see that girl over there?" I gesture to Jacqueline. "That's Henry's older sister Jacqueline. We met when you and Henry were in kindergarten, and obviously that was ten years ago. Obviously she doesn't know that I don't age, so I'm not Quil right now. My name is Taylor. Okay?" Claire nods.

"Oh, right." She hugs me, and I don't really want to let go of her. "Bye, 'Taylor.'"

"Stay out of trouble," I warn her.

Claire rolls her eyes. "Really. How much trouble can I get in?" She skip back to Henry, who takes her hand. "Bye, Taylor."

"Have fun, and call me when you need to be picked up," I instruct. The "have fun" is hard to get out, but I just have to remember that it's Claire's happiness above all else. With a wave, Claire and Henry disappear into the theater.

I turn back to the car. "Nice meeting you, Taylor," Jacqueline says with a smile. "Tell Quil I said hi."

"Nice meeting you too. And I'll tell him." I get back in the car and speed away.

-----

I get a phone call from Claire around 9:15, hop back in the Buick, and go to get her. All the while I'm thinking about how not to show the jealousy that is nearly blinding me. When I pull into the parking lot, Claire is sitting on the sidewalk, staring into the night. There is no sign of Henry or Jacqueline. In the light from the neon sign, I see telltale tear stains on Claire's cheeks.

I honk, and Claire glances at the car. She stands up slowly, like it's a great effort, and moves to the car. She climbs in the passenger seat silently, all traces of her former enthusiasm gone. "What's wrong?" I ask, almost demand. Claire meets my gaze.

"Henry sucks," she says.

"Care to elaborate?" I prompt as the silence stretches on. "What did he do to you?"

"He didn't really care about me. He was using me. He's not looking for love, he's looking for sex. And I fell for it. God, Quil, I'm such an idiot." Her voice is a flat monotone. My knuckles tighten on the wheel.

"You're not an idiot," I counter. "He's the idiot. If he only wants a girlfriend to have sex with, he's seriously missing out on some of the finer aspects of life. And if he didn't love Claire Young for Claire Young, he's got a problem, and he's not worth your time."

Claire looks up at me through glassy eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so," I declare. _I also know that I won't ever push you too far, and that I love Claire Young for Claire Young._

"Thanks," Claire murmurs.

* * *

**y'all are lucky i'm sick, because i had time to make this really long. God, i feel like crap. ;) thanks to Claire and Mariah for that. and Musings of a Shaken Mind. so, review! did this knock your socks off or what? i have to go take my meds now... lovelovelove, m**


	14. Sixteen

_So take care what you ask of me_  
'_Cause I can't say no_

"Bye, Quil," Claire says, sounding impatient, as I linger in the doorway. Her sweet sixteen bash, with most of the wolves and imprints, had ended a half hour ago. I'd stayed under the pretense of helping Claire clean up, really just wanting to spend more time with her. But now I know it's time for me to go.

"See ya, Claire. Happy birthday." Once I step outside, Claire shuts the door, and I turn to get back in my car. As I drive home, I'm thinking. How long will it take for Claire to fall in love with me too? Renesmee was fifteen (well, she was four, but she was physically fifteen) when she fell in love with Jacob. Claire's sixteen now, the same age as me. And I'm not patient.

The twilight is setting in as I pull into my own driveway. Before I climb out of the Buick, I realize that I left my camera back at Claire's. I pull back out, and drive back to the Uleys. Night invades the dusky light as I drive in. When I turn onto the Uleys' street, I hear loud music pulsing from somewhere inside one of the houses. Then, to my shock and hurt, I realize it's the Uleys.

Cars spill out of the driveway and onto the street. Colored lights illuminate the inside like a nightclub. I realize what's going on immediately. Claire's having a party. As if she hadn't just had one. I know now why Claire was so impatient to get me out of the house, probably because people were already arriving. She'd managed to get her friends, the werewolves, out of the house and the party in full swing in a mere half hour.

A rusty Toyota pulls in front of the Buick. Three beefy-looking jocks climb out, slapping high fives to everyone in sight. Then Claire comes into view, opening the doors for the guys. Her eyes scan the darkness, looking for more partygoers, and too late she recognizes me. I start the car then. Claire tears after me, but I speed away, not wanting to talk to her.

That night I lie awake feeling empty.

I don't leave the house that next day. I'm just not in the mood. I feel betrayed that Claire would lie like that. Was she lying about having fun with the rest of us? I don't know anymore. For all I know, she's been lying to me forever. I don't want to think about it, so I cover my face with the blanket.

When the doorbell rings, I pretend I don't hear it. I know it's Claire, and I don't want to talk to her. I roll over onto my stomach and press a pillow onto my face. I hear the stairs being climbed, the sound muffled through the fluff of the pillow, and then the blanket is being lifted off of me. I groan and try to grab the blanket back. "Not so fast," Claire says sharply.

"Why?" I complain. "Go away."

"Look, Quil." As Claire speaks, she plucks the pillow off my head. "I know you're pissed at me. But let me explain myself." I pull myself into a sitting position, wondering what Claire has to say.

"Shoot," I sigh. "Let me hear what you've got."

"It's not that I didn't have fun with you guys. That's not it at all. I love all of you." I have to remind myself, and my heart which thrills to the word, that Claire's love is platonic. "But it's like your world and my world don't mix."

"Apparently they do, or else we wouldn't be friends," I point out with narrowed eyes.

"I meant, I can't see Embry and Jacob having fun at a huge high school party. And it just seems weird to think about," Claire says defensively. "And so I just tried to keep it from you 'cause I thought you'd be mad at me if you knew."

"Well, it worked real well, didn't it?" I snap. Seeing Claire's wounded expression, I try to control my tone. "Why didn't you invite me? I thought that I was your best friend. You didn't have to lie about it to me."

Claire looks down. "I know. It would have been, I don't know, awkward, I guess."

I look at her quizzically. "Awkward?" I prompt.

"Um...'cause I'm in love with you," Claire blurts.

I blink, thoroughly confused. "What?"

"I don't really want to repeat it." Claire studies her fingernails awkwardly.

"Oh my God, are you serious?" The words come tumbling out of me before I can stop them, and they sound all wrong. "I mean, really?" Claire nods, her face burning red. I reach out, cup her chin, and lift her head up so it's at my level. "You're in luck," I whisper.

Claire's eyes widen. "Seriously?"

"Since you were fourteen," I confirm. Then, knowing it's right, I lean in and softly press my lips to hers. The kiss is soft. It's brief. But it is undoubtedly the best thing that's ever happened to me. When I pull away, Claire is looking at me with an awed expression.

"I guess I'm forgiven, then," she jokes once she recovers herself.

"Yeah. And hey, next time you're in love with me, you can tell me right away. I can guarantee I'm in love with you too," I laugh.

"This happens to all imprints, doesn't it?" Claire asks. I nod. "That's why they're all married off by now."

"I've had to wait a little longer than the rest of them, though," I point out. "It's been fourteen years that I've had to wait for you."

Claire rolls her eyes. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she says sarcastically. "I'll try to age faster." She pauses. "Speaking of aging, what happens when I'm, like, eighty, and you're still sixteen?"

"Haven't you noticed? Sam's aging again, now that he and Emily are the same age. Now that you're sixteen too, I can start aging again. It's a werewolf thing. Well, the werewolf thing is that we start aging when we stop phasing, but Sam and I kept phasing while we waited for you and Emily to catch up. I don't quite get it either."

"Um, Quil?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind kissing me again?"

"I can't say no to you. But even if I could, I'd still say yes." And then I lean down and kiss her once more.

* * *

**i'm sad to say that this is the end of the story. however, i'm probably not done with Quil and Claire yet. expect to see them in future oneshots ;) thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially chocoholic4eva, whose reviews i always look forward to reading. and thanks to Agrabah's Princess for helping me clear up some confuzzlation on the aging thing. while waiting for my next masterpiece, vote in my poll, read my profile, read my other stories, and read "Never My Happy Ending"/the sequel "Revenge" by seashell118, who never fails to impress me with her genius. review this too. a Quil cookie goes to the first person to find the line i ripped from a song (well, i modified it a bit, but you can still tell what song it's from if you know the song) and can name what song i took it from, and the artist. thanks for reading! lovelovelove, m**


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